Show Review - Venetian Snares at the Albert, Jan.30

Before I proceed with this post, I find it necessary to take the time to get some of my biases out in the open:

1. For all intents and purposes at this show, I was a complete poser. I have absolutely no ties with Winnipeg’s electronica or break-core scene. In fact, I didn’t even know one existed until I witnessed the throngs of people at the Albert.

2. Due to my outsider status, penchants for snarky writing and my belief that I have a better taste in music than almost anyone, the following review may come off as belittling to some. Especially when discussing the opening acts and the people in attendance. So let’s get some of the smarmyness out of the way now. It certainly wouldn’t be fair to call the opening acts boring, because I wasn’t dancing to the somewhat contrived, four-on-the-floor beats, and hey, maybe some people find watching one person hunched over their laptop and bobbing their heads on stage entertaining. To me, the cynical outsider, it looks like you are just playing your latest iTunes playlist and chatting on Facebook. But again, I stress, that I am a poser and know nothing whatsoever about what is popular in this scene.

3. I was shocked to discover that people could actually dance, or at least try to dance, to Venetian Snares.

Thanks for your time. Please enjoy the following review.

The warm-up acts just didn’t do it for me. Slattern was at least interesting because she was the odd one out - she played real instruments and sang. Not Half and Jaymez played their alternately bubbly, poppy and glitchy dance music. Hunched behind glowing MacBooks, I just couldn’t get into it. They sure had lots of people dancing though.

Finally, Aaron Funk, the man behind the incredibly prolific Venetian Snare took the stage. His set started off with a decidedly dancey vibe - as dancey as 200 beats-per-minute in 7/4 time with smatterings of vocals, harsh noise and who-knows-what else can be. Played through a loud, professional sound system, Snares sounded incredible. Amidst the chaos, HUGE pulsing bass lines rattled my rib cage - a physical element certainly missing from my recreational Venetian Snares listening.

Unlike the opening acts, I found Funk fascinating to watch, though I have no idea what the hell he was doing up there. At least I could tell he was doing a whole lot more than pressing play on his laptop. He relied heavily on two CD “turntables” and a mixer, his hands a flurry, constantly tweaking, twisting and distorting his already mangled beats.

As his set wore on, the music became all the more frenzied and chaotic. Dropping a few jams off of “Dentrimentalist” and “Cavalcade of Glee and Dadaist Happy Hardcore Pom-Poms” gave certain audience members something recognizable to hold on to before he twisted them beyond recognition.

Finally, the structured elements of Snares’ music descended into almost pure noise. The pulse was still present, but it had become impossibly fast; the funkier elements gone in place of harsh squeals of static. It almost seemed as if Funk had been toying with the crowd the whole night, daring people to dance to his nearly un-danceable music before plummeting the depths of noise. The dance floor began to thin. And almost without warning, Funk called one of his friends up the decks, he packed up his things and waved thanks without stopping the all-encompassing, writhing static. What started off as music from the future finished as music from the end of the world.